


On Your Own

by InvisibleAce



Series: The Aftermath of Sunset Curve [1]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Bobby's a good person, Grief/Mourning, Manipulation, Missing Scenes, Not Beta Read, Pre-Canon, Self-Hatred, back story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27045415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvisibleAce/pseuds/InvisibleAce
Summary: Bobby's left to pick up the pieces of his life after his friends die.AKA, another look at what happen to Bobby after the death of his friends.
Relationships: Bobby & The Band, Bobby | Trevor Wilson & Rose
Series: The Aftermath of Sunset Curve [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2090568
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57





	On Your Own

**Author's Note:**

> I know there's some other fics going around of what could've lead Bobby down the path to becoming Trevor. I honestly believe that Bobby was a good person and really cared for his friends. So, this is just my take on what I thought happened. 
> 
> Also, thank you for the love on my other fics! I hope y'all enjoy this one. 
> 
> ** WARNING: Mentions of death and grieving. Rated T for language **

Bobby was numb. 

The talking and shouting that was happening around him fell onto deaf ears. He stood there, by the stupid old couch his friends loved, watching as the ambulance got farther and farther away. He was half tempted to run after it. His friends were in there. Bobby had no idea what was happening. 

Not even an hour ago he was playing on stage with his friends. They were joking and making small talk with Rose. Bobby’s heart dropped when he heard the sirens go past. Bobby didn’t know how but he knew it was for his friends. Something in his gut just told him. Those street dogs they were so found of always seemed sketchy to him. 

He had rushed out the stage door, Rose just behind him and chased after the ambulance as it cut down another alleyway, the alleyway he knew the street dog vendor was. His heart was in his throat as he ran as fast as he could. 

Bobby arrived in time to see them loading his friends onto the ambulance. They all had oxygen masks over their faces and were uncharacteristically still. 

Reggie was the last one loaded on, Bobby trying to force his way through the crowd that had formed. He needed to get to his friends. They don’t do well with new situations and stress. They needed his help. 

“Wait!” He cried as he got to the doors of the vehicle. The paramedic looked at him in surprise. “Those are my friends!” 

The paramedic sent him a look of sympathy. Bobby ignored it and tried to push down the nausea that swept over him at seeing his friends just behind the woman laying on the stretchers. 

“We’re taking them to Mercy,” The paramedic told him softly. “You can meet us there.” 

The doors closed on his face as yelling rang out of; _ loosening them! Heart rates are slowing and lack of oxygen! _

Bobby felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

There was a hand on his back, Rose standing next to him as they stood in the middle of the alleyway watching the ambulance drive farther and farther away. Watching as he friends got farther and farther away, in more ways than one. 

“Do you want me to drive you to the hospital?” Rose asked. “My car’s back at the theater.” 

Bobby just nodded, not being able to get words out. He let Rose guide him from the alley, forcing himself to look away from the path the ambulance took. It was out of sight now but the lights left spots in his eyes. The sirens were echoing in his ears. He stumbled his way out of the alley and forced his feet to move. Rose’s hand stayed on his back, rubbing up and down. It was grounding. 

He registered making it to Rose’s car, getting in and her driving. He looked up at the bright sign of the Orphuem and dread took place of the overwhelming excitement that was there earlier. He forced himself to stop looking at the sign in the side view mirror. He looked down at his hands, wishing they would stop shaking. 

“Thank you.” Bobby forced his voice to work. 

“Of course.” Rose answered back quietly. 

They were silent after that. Rose didn’t turn on the radio, just the sound of traffic around them could be heard. Bobby was trying to think positive. Maybe the paramedics were able to save his friends during their mad dash to the hospital. When he gets there they’ll meet him with their normal stupid sheepish smiles and Reggie could make illtimed but much appreciated joke. 

Bobby really wished that was what happened. Anything was better than what greeted him at the hospital. 

Well, the lack of who greeted him. 

He rushed through the ER doors, barely stopping to talk to the person at the desk. His heart was racing, palms sweating. He needed to see his friends so he could yell at them for scaring him so damn much and for always denying his offer to buy them real hotdogs. 

A doctor appeared through the double doors as Rose started explaining why they were there and asking if there was any update on the three boys. Bobby wasn’t sure if the front desk person answered, he only had eyes for the doctor that was in front of him. He knew, he just  _ knew _ that he was there for him. 

“I’m guessing your Bobby?” He said. 

“Yeah,” Bobby breathed. He cleared his throat. “My- Are my friends okay?” 

A neutral look came over the doctor's face, one that made Bobby stop breathing. Anxiety was building in his chest. Greif threatened to choke him as his eyes burned from welling tears. No good news was given with such a look. He felt Rose slip her hands into his and hold on tight. 

“I’m sorry, they were gone before arrival.” 

Bobby staggered backwards as if pushed. Air removed itself from his lungs as he stumbled to the ground. Rose, hand still in his, had no choice but to follow. A sob ripped from his throat as it hit him all at once. He would never see his friends again. 

He would never get the chance to watch in awe as Luke flawlessly wrote and composed another song, destined to be a hit. He’ll never see Alex own up to just how amazing he was and absolutely kill every gig they had. Reggie won’t be able to tell him anymore of his outrageous stories or show him that latest country song he wrote but was too embarrassed to show Luke. 

His friends had survived so much shit in their lives. They’ve finally just gotten to the good part; the part that all four of them had been working their asses off for, just for it to be taken away. Torn right from under them by a stupid hotdog vendor. 

Bobby shook with sobs, slowly becoming aware that he was still on the gross floor of the ER, with Rose trying to talk to him. 

He let out a gasp, sucking in much needed air. He still shook, tears not seeming to have an end. He felt everything and nothing at all. His brothers were gone. In a blink of an eye everything changed and he wasn’t ready for it in the slightest. It was like a punch in the gut. 

“Would you like to see them?” The doctor asked gently. “Their families are on the way here.” 

Their families. Their families who don’t deserve to have kids as amazing as the three of them. Their families that treated them all like shit and that didn’t support their kids dreams in the slightest. Bobby was filled with a sudden anger, though he wasn’t actually sure how to pinpoint it. 

“No thank you,” Bobby whispered. 

He couldn’t imagine seeing his friends so still. The three of them were constantly moving or making noise in some type of way. Seeing them so still, so quiet, would stay embedded in his memory forever. It might be selfish but he wanted the last images of his friends to be of them mocking him over attempting to flirt with Rose, calling out excited shouts as they ran for the stage door. 

Another sob wracked through him. 

Bobby had always known that the world could be cruel. He watched his friends go through what they went through, himself going through some family drama as well, but they always remained positive even when two out of four of them were homeless. They had always had a home with each other, a constant safety net. A band of brothers that were always there to catch each other when life decided it hadn’t been hard enough.

For the first time since meeting his best friends in middle school, Bobby was falling with no one there to catch him. 

* * *

Bobby went into hiding. 

Once the word got out about the tragedy of the up-and-coming band Sunset Cursive, reports were hounding him for a statement. The small following they had picked up seemed to disappear over time when Bobby didn’t make any comments nor made any attempts to interact with them. 

He found an apartment on the farthest side of California. He only went back to the city for his friends funerals, each happening the day after each other. The entire time he could feel eyes on him. Grief still suffocated him, getting worse as the week went. He thought that once his friends were laid to rest, no matter how small their funerals had been, he would be able to breathe easier. That he could start back on the road of recovery but it seemed to get worse. 

He wasn’t ready for how small his friend's funerals would be. Reggie had the biggest turn out, about twenty people, but Bobby didn’t know who half of them were. They seemed to know him though, coming up and addressing him by name and how sorry they were for his loss. 

Bobby also took note of what parents actually seemed to be upset. Reggie’s mom, both of Luke’s parents and, to his surprise, Alex’s dad. 

He still doesn’t forgive them for how they treated his friends for when they were alive. He doesn’t think he ever will. 

After the funerals he stayed away from the part of the city. He would wonder. He felt lost. Bobby had no idea what to do with himself. It didn’t feel right to go find another band, most bands didn’t need a rhythm guitarist anymore. Bobby had always felt like his friends were just being nice. Well, that they were too nice to kick him out. He wasn’t never as close the three of them had been, nor was he one for touching, but he cared for all of them so much. They were bringing him out of his shell everyday. 

He didn’t flinch when they would touch him unexpectedly anymore. They were the only three people, outside his parents, who’s touch he didn’t mind. 

Months had past, in one colorless blur, when suddenly Rose was at his door. 

She didn’t seem all that happy with how his life was going. 

“I know I only met them briefly but they wouldn’t want this for you,” She said, looking around his sad excuse for an apartment. “They’d want you to keep doing what you love.” 

Bobby hadn’t picked up his guitar in months. Looking at it made him queasy. He had put his friend's instruments back in the studio, up in the loft and had washed his hands of it. 

He hated how weak he felt, even after it being almost a year. “I can’t.”

Rose grabbed his hand and held tight. “If you can’t do it for yourself, then do it for them. Don’t let their legacy start and end with you.” 

She had stayed for dinner, takeout at a local pizzeria but left soon after. He watched her leave from the window, feeling sturdier than he had in months. His hands shook as he made his way to his room and dug his guitar case from under his bed. 

Gently he took it out of its case, along with some of the sheets of music Luke had given him to look over. He smiled sadly at the scribble that covered the page. His friend's handwriting was truly terrible. Alex had written some notes at the top, an inside joke that brought out a watery laugh. 

For the first time in months, as shaky as it was, Bobby played. 

It was healing. 

* * *

Bobby found himself in a manager's office a few weeks after he started playing again. 

Once he felt more confident with his playing (read: stopped crying and feeling guilty for moving on without his friends) he started booking small gigs at local coffee shops. It was bittersweet. It was just like before he found the others and joined their band. 

He didn’t let himself focus on those memories for too long. 

Anyways, he’s been playing at a few different coffee shops for weeks now. Rose would come by and watch, cheering the loudest when he was done. It was embarrassing at first, seeing that most people weren’t paying attention to him and she had startled a few customers with her cheering. 

It was dumb luck that one off the coffee shops he played at was a favorite of a manager of a music company. He was playing midafternoon, one of Luke’s songs slowed down to fit the vibe of the shop. He was singing and strumming absentmindedly. After his set he was approached by a man in a suit and handed a card. 

“How would you like to make your dreams come true kid? Meet me tomorrow at nine.” 

And that was that. 

Rose had helped him find his nicest outfit (which wasn’t close to passing for nice) and gave him a ride over to the meeting. He left her in the lobby as he took the elevator up to the highest floor. The height made him feel dizzy. Or maybe that was his nerves. Both. Could be both. It’s probably both. 

Bobby was just proud of himself for not throwing up. He really felt like he was gonna throw up. 

From the elevator he was led down a very long hallway to a pair of double doors. A sudden rush of chills ran down his spine as he entered the office and the man from earlier was sitting behind a large desk. Bobby shook his hand and took a seat in front of said desk. He really hoped his hands didn’t feel as clammy as he thought they did. 

“Let's get down to business, I’m not one to sugar coat stuff,” Erik Morson (going by the name tag on his desk) said. He didn’t seem like the kind of dude who took anyone's crap. “You got a lotta potential kid. I often frequent that whole in the wall coffee house hoping to find someone who stands out.”

“Um, thank you sir.” 

“I’ve seen you play for about a week now,” Erik kept on speaking as if Bobby never spoke. “I’m liking what I’m hearing. So here’s the plan. I’ll give you a month to record an EP and, if it does well, we’ll see about a recording contract.” 

Bobby was floored. It seemed too good to be true. There was one small problem: “I don’t have the equipment to record, sir.” 

Erik raised an eyebrow. “Don’t insult me kid. You’ll be using our studio. Come and go as you want, just don’t stay later than one am, Bill locks up a little after that. Also no groupies.” 

Bobby was left floundering. He needed to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. It was all happening so fast. “I can totally do that.” 

A hearty laugh. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. Now, we’ll get the paperwork together and you can start as soon as you're ready.” 

Bobby sat back in his seat as Erik rummaged through papers on the desk, mumbling to himself. This was actually happening. He was on his way to being signed by an actual record company. A twinge of sadness and guilt ran through him as he thought about Luke, Alex and Reggie. This was all they wanted in life. What they worked tirelessly for. It didn’t seem fare for Bobby to reach this goal and not have them by his side. 

_ You’re doing this for them _ , He thought as Erik handed him a contract that he slowly skimmed through before signing.  _ The world won’t forget them _ . 

* * *

A month later found him back in the same office, playing his EP for Erik. Bobby sat back nervously, running his hands up and down his thighs as the final song played out and Erik was yet to say anything. 

That was never a good sign. Were his songs that bad? Sure Luke used to do most of the writing but when Bobby did help the other boy seemed to love his ideas. 

It was odd, recording with a band that wasn’t his friends. He had to give more direction than he was used to. His friends just clicked, they were on the same wavelength as they played and seemed to know what needed to change and just the perfect way how. Being in the studio was the exact opposite of that. It left him with a headache and heartache most nights. 

“It was good, just like I thought it would be,” Erik said. “But where are the songs you were playing in the coffee shop?” 

_ Luke’s songs. _

“Um, a friend of mine helped me write them. It didn’t seem right to use them without him,” Bobby knew his answer was vague as hell and not completely true. Luke wrote those songs by himself. 

“Well get their okay and use ‘em kid. Surely your friends could join your little team.” 

A knot was forming in his throat. His eyes stayed dried ( _ thank god _ ) but the build up of emotion whenever he had to talk about his friends still happened. Bobby didn’t know if this grief would ever leave him. 

Bobby had no idea how to word his next sentence. 

“Um, unfortunately sir I can’t. They, um, they died last year.” 

“Oh,” Erik frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that kid.” 

Bobby just nodded, never knowing how to respond to that statement. 

“Use them anyway,” Erik spoke. Bobby’s head snapped up. “For your first album, use their songs. If they themselves can’t play them for the word, at least you could.” 

Bobby blinked. A smile made its way onto his face. He wasn’t aware that he had gotten a record deal but he’ll circle back to that  _ unreal _ moment later. “That’s a fantastic idea sir! Their names could even be in the album jacket and I could credit them, so their parents know they made it.” 

He was mainly thinking out loud but this just got a little less sad. This could be how people remembered them! Given they won’t know who they are but Bobby could have it written in ther, somewhere. He would hand deliver copies to all their parents and tell them to shove it. That their kids' dreams weren’t pointless and that they made it big even after death. 

He could honor their legacy. 

“Now wait a minute,” Erik said. His tone was hard. “I can’t have people knowing that one of my most promising up and coming artists has ghostwriters in any sense. Bobby, those songs are yours now. Change them up, or play them the exact same. I don’t care. These dead kids aren’t gonna ruin my streak.” 

Bobby felt like he was punched in the gut. His high was gone and he was left with a bad feeling in his mouth. Steal is friends' life work? Given he was part of it but to take it for all his own? That just wasn’t right. They would never do that to them. 

“Those _ dead kids _ ,” Bobby spat. He was filled with a deep dislike for the man in front of him suddenly. “Are why you even liked me in the first place. They’re getting credited or I’m not doing any album.” 

Erik didn’t react the way he thought he would. He expected screaming and tempter tantrums like he’s seen the older man do before. Working in his studio for a month, Bobby know’s what kind of man Erik is. Or at least he thought he did. Bobby would have never guessed that he would speak so ill of the dead, let alone his friends and right to his face. 

But Erik didn’t yell. He chuckled and shook his head. 

“That’s where you’re wrong kid,” He pulled out Bobby’s contract seemingly out of thin-air. “I own you for your next two albums,” The pile of papers were tossed carelessly onto the desk. “Now, I don’t mean to be insensitive but in this business ya gotta make hard choices. You wanna make it big don't ya?”

Bobby swallowed the bad taste in his mouth. He felt sick, “Yes.” 

“Well,” Erik shrugged. “Start with not feeling so guilty about every single thing. You want your friends' memories to live on? Use their songs. Otherwise they’ll just sit in a notebook unused for all eternity. You’re doing them a favor kiddo.” 

Bobby left that meeting hating himself more than he ever had before. He didn’t want to take credit for his friends' work. He wanted to keep their memories alive, but how could he do that when they can’t be credited? When he got home he paced his small apartment for hours, mumbling to himself and trying to make it seem okay to do logically.

That’s how Rose found him a few hours later. 

“So?” Rose asked excitedly. “Did Erik like the EP?” 

“More or less,” Bobby, having collapsed onto the floor, nodded numbly. “I got a record deal for two full albums.” 

Rose quickly joined him on the floor, giving him a crushing hug. She pulled back a bit when he didn’t return it. “Why don’t you seem more excited?” 

“Erik, after I played it for him, asked where the songs I played in the coffee shop were. I… I told them they were my friends and he told me to- to use them as my own since they aren’t around anymore.” 

Bobby felt Rose go still. He looked away from the shady crack on his wall and over at his friend. She looked pale. “Rose?” 

“You aren’t going to do it, are you? Luke worked hard on those songs.” 

Bobby knows this. Bobby doesn’t have much of a choice and he told her just that. “He owns me for however long these albums take. Besides, wouldn’t it be a good thing to record his songs and have people hear them? Otherwise they would never see the light of day.” 

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself that stealing your friends' work is okay?” 

Bobby didn’t know anymore. 

Rose sighed and stood up. Bobby watched her head towards the door. She stopped and looked back at him, disappointment and anger in her eyes. “It’s wrong to take Luke’s life work and pass it as your own. You have clearly made up your mind on it though. You wanted to make your friends’ legacies live on but by doing this, you’re taking them away.” 

And, with a final look of sadness, Rose left. 

Bobby was alone again. 

* * *

He used the songs as his own. He hated himself the entire time, making up answers when reporters would ask about what inspired him to write such touching and amazing songs. Bobby hated how he was acting if working with a script. Every answer thought out ahead of time. Erik would watch over him like a hawk, as if waiting for him to slip off and then land the ending blow. 

It never came. He played his part well.

Bobby had his first panic attack a month after his first album was released; an album mostly of Luke’s songs. 

He had gone back to their old studio to find some songs. He found Luke's songbook up in the loft. He only took the songs that weren't personal. Ones that Luke didn't pour his heart and soul into. He was sick the entire time he was in there, rooting through his friends stuff. Ghosts of laughter and loud conversations echoed in his ears. 

Bobby left as quick as he came, shutting the studios door for the last time. 

Everyone was calling him a musical genius, the newest and up-and-coming living legend of rock-and-roll. Bobby wished he could bask in it. The smiles and laughs were fake. The awards weren’t earned. His entire career was based on lies. 

Rose had come and seen him at his new house, back in the city that he swore he would never go back to. Erik had been the one to get it for him. Bobby had to admit that his small old apartment was slowly falling apart and started smelling like Chinese food due to said restaurant opening next door. 

“So,  _ Trevor _ , how’s the rock star life?” Rose had asked. 

Changing his name had been his marketing teams idea. They said that the name Bobby was holding him back; the last thing connecting him to his sad past. If he got rid of the name, poof- his guilt would be gone.  _ Trevor could be whoever you want him to be, _ The team had said.  _ Make him a rock god.  _

So he did. 

Trevor had little care for things. Trevor was a rockstar with no guilt or hesitation. He took what he wanted, when he wanted it. He didn’t wait for Erik to approve his ideas before doing them. He recorded more and more songs and the success came rolling in. 

Bobby just wished he could sell the facade to himself. Underneath it all, where Trevor ended, was the scared and heartbroken boy that Bobby never stopped being. 

“Fantastic, thanks for asking,” Bobby responded, handing her a bottle of water. 

Rose watched him quietly as they sat in silence. It was a weird back and forth even without words. It was like they were seeing who would break first. Rose cleared her throat after a long drink of water. She played with the wrapping as Bobby tried to hide his nerves. He hadn’t seen Rose since she left his apartment disappointed. 

“I heard you gave money to Luke’s, Alex’s and Reggie’s parents.” She spoke quietly. 

Bobby nodded, looking over at her, “I did.” 

“Why?” 

Bobby had a million reasons why. Most of it was guilt, he took away their kids' life work just because they weren’t around anymore. Another part of it was because he knew his friends would’ve given some money to their families, regardless of how they treated them. He didn’t give Alex’s parents nearly as much as he did Luke and Reggie’s, seeing that they disowned their own son for being gay. Bobby still hasn’t forgiven any of his friends' parents for how they treated them while they were alive but he knew, deep down, it was the right thing to do. 

“Reggie’s mom can live comfortably after the divorce goes through. Luke’s parents won’t have to work nearly as much hours since they’re getting older. And Alex’s… it was just charity,” Bobby listed off on his fingers. “This way they could see just how big their kids would’ve made it had it not been for their terribly parenting and my friends having to live off of street food.” 

Rose was smiling at him. It was soft and full of fondness. It made Bobby’s chest ache. He doesn’t deserve such a look. “What?” 

“There you are,” Rose laughed. “There’s the Bobby I befriended.” 

That brought a smile to Bobby’s face. It’s been a while since he smiled and actually meant it. 

“I hate what I’ve become, just so you know,” Bobby said, trying to sound casual but he wasn’t sure it landed. “I never wanted to erase their memories from the world. That’s the one thing I’ll never forgive myself for.” 

Rose moved to sit next to him. She took his hand into hers. “You know how I feel about it. I’m sorry I didn’t see how much it was hurting you before. We’ll get through this, yeah? One more album and then you can wash your hands of Erik. We can let the world know about Sunset Curve then.” 

Bobby sighed. “I don’t know if the sworn secrecy continues after I’m no longer signed.” 

“Then we’ll let our kids know. We’ll turn a whole new generation into Sunset Curve fans and let the truth be known once Erik is old and can’t do anything without running out of breath.” Rose declared. 

“Jeez, I’m only twenty. I can’t think about kids yet,” Bobby laughed. “But I like the way you think. It’s a plan.” 

The two friends settled in for the night, Rose dreamily telling Bobby about a nice boy she meant at her new job.  _ Ray _ , she sighed with a smile on her face. Bobby made fun of her for looking like a love sick school girl, which resulted in a smack upside the head. 

His life wasn’t perfect, no matter how much it may seem, and he still loathed the image that stared back at him but maybe, just maybe, one day he wouldn’t. The day he tells the world about Luke, Reggie and Alex would be the day he could breathe easier. 

Hopefully that glorious day comes soon but for now, he'll play his part and plan. 

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure how I feel about this one. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed :)


End file.
